When I came home after work, I found my wife Angelique and her friend Darva hanging around in lingerie. Their hair was somewhat tousled, their cheeks faintly flushed, their attitude both shy and giddy; I was sure they’d just had sex. I was pretty certain my wife had been in a lesbian relationship with Darva for some time, but it didn’t bother me. To tell the truth, it turned me on.

While my wife showered, I asked Darva to stay for dinner. After all it was the weekend coming up. With only slight reluctance she agreed. She even helped me chop a few carrots.

The stew, along with a spinach salad and some freshly warmed bread, turned out quite delicious. We easily went through two bottles of very nice wine. Darva seemed only slightly embarrassed at her scanty attire. As the meal progressed, she became animated in extolling the qualities of the food and wine, and she laughed gaily when the cork of the second bottle popped. For myself, I couldn’t help but notice her nipples fattening beneath the gauze of her gown. Following dinner we relaxed in the living room—Darva and Angelique on the sofa, me on the armchair facing them.

“So what’s new today in the world of man?” Angelique asked me, momentarily diverting my attention from the smooth skin of Darva’s inner thigh.

“Nothing much,” I said. “Gasoline prices are up again.”

Darva broke into sputters of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Nothing.” Darva laughed again.

“Go ahead, tell him,” Angelique said.

“I shouldn’t,” Darva said. Her legs parted slightly. Another few inches and I’d be able to see her pussy.

“I want to hear it again anyway,” Angelique said.

Darva began her story. She was at a fuel oasis filling her tank when a man came out of the pay station. He made a rude comment.

“Tell the rude comment,” Angelique said. They were sitting very close. Angelique was softly stroking Darva’s forearm.

“I don’t remember,” Darva said.

“You do,” Angelique said. Her hand moved to the hem of Darva’s nightgown. Darva’s legs parted another inch.

“All right. The man said, ‘I’d like to fill your tank.’ He was a rugged man. Sort of handsome.”

“Tell him what you said.”

“No.”

“You said...” Angelique pushed Darva’s nightgown up, but just an inch.

“All right. I said, ‘Like you could.’”

“And he said, ‘Come with me and I’ll show you. And you went with him.” My wife’s fingers toyed with the frilly hem.

“To his truck,” Darva said, closing her legs, trapping my wife’s hand between. “It was parked in a row of trucks. Not much space between. Tight so we couldn’t be seen. He opened the cab door. He said, ‘Bend over.’ I bent over. I braced myself. He flipped up my dress and pulled down my panties. I was so wet. He was big, but he went in easily. He grunted as he fucked me. I pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts. It didn’t take him long to come. He was flooding my cunt. The idea of it more than anything made me come. The spasms were delicious. When he pulled out, a lot of his stuff dripped out onto the pavement. I pulled up my panties. He tucked away his penis, suddenly shy, not the rough trucker anymore. I was elated. I drove home with a full tank and a contented cunt.”

Darva laughed again. “Now you know,” she said. “Now you know what a slut I am.”

“Excuse me,” Angelique said, removing her hand from beneath Darva’s flimsy gown. I caught the barest glimpse of Darva’s plump labia and the glistening skin between. Angelique walked quickly out of the room.